


Where No Man Has Gone

by Sir_Rainbow_Sprinkles



Series: Boldly Go [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Star Trek
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Borg!Bucky, Canon-Typical Violence, Dubious Consent, F/M, Flashbacks, Gore, Star Trek - Freeform, StarshipCaptain!Steve, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-11 20:59:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7907482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sir_Rainbow_Sprinkles/pseuds/Sir_Rainbow_Sprinkles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What the hell.” Rogers murmured to himself. He tapped his communicator again. “Natasha? Natasha come in. Suspect has a metal arm. . .Lieutenant?”</p><p>The man running through the blizzard was only a few yards away now. He was coming in fast. Faster than any other humanoid creature Rogers had ever seen. The man reminded him of himself. Rogers tapped at his communicator again. His body was tensed for a fight.</p><p>“Lieutenant, we have incoming."</p><p>-O-</p><p>After being put to death for committing treason during the Borg Wars, Bucky comes back from the dead. Steve has a hard time dealing with it. Natasha isn't amused by either of them. Starship Captain! Steve. Borg! Bucky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where No Man Has Gone

**Author's Note:**

> I am so glad to have this off my computer. I didn't get every thing about working on a Starfleet starship right and I didn't try too. So if you're here for accuracy this is not the place.

“Captain Rogers!” Ensign Rick Jones looked up from his control panel. “We have an incoming distress signal coming out of. . .Jotunheim. It’s an Asgardian frequency. Should we patch it through?” The small light that let Ensign Jones know of incoming signals was blinking a soft, cherry red. He looked down on it like it was shrieking something vulgar in Klingon. 

Captain Steve Rogers of the USS America sat up straighter in his chair. He took a moment to take a deep breath and gather himself before he turned to look at Ensign Jones. “Jotunheim? The prison colony?” The Captain asked. 

“Yes, sir.” 

After being placed on five years probation, Captain Rogers had finally been put in charge of a starship again. After being demoted and heavily punished for committing treason, of all things, during the Borg War he had worked his way back to being a ship captain without Starfleet breathing down his neck. Rogers had been enjoying his first year of having a starship under his command until Jotunheim was mentioned. It was a shame. A whole twelve months without incident had been nothing short of a miracle. Captain Rogers gripped onto the armrests of his chair. 

“Did you have to plot a course past Jotunheim, Ensign?” Lieutenant Tony Stark stepped onto the bridge. He was holding his hips and squaring his should like he was born to stand there. “Look at Cap’s face. Looks like he’s seen a ghost.”

Captain Rogers whipped himself around and shot Lt. Stark a horrible look that would have stopped a man with more sense from opening his mouth again. 

“Oh, can it, Rogers. There are plenty of other reasons to avoid it then just your boy toy’s unfortunate demise. It’s the foremost prison colony in all the Gamma Quadrant, filled with nothing but class ‘A’ criminals and what ever other types of scum that can be scrapped from the bottle of the galaxy’s shoes. I’ve got to say you’re scowl is very Captain-like, though. Very commanding.”

Captain Rogers wondered not for the first time if he could get away with pushing Lt. Stark out of an air lock. Or maybe leaving him on a hostile planet? No one could possibly blame him. 

“Are we actually going there?” Ensign Jones asked. Jones went pale, pulling at his collar and sweating nervously like he was in a 20th century children’s cartoon. Rogers had forgotten how young Jones was. He didn’t know much about Captain Rogers infamous treason, or the consequences of it. He didn’t know much about the Borg or the Borg War, other then the fact that the Borg were some sort of mechanical alien race that had been hell bent on making the universe a homogenous place. Rogers tried not to let Ensign Jones’ naivety annoy him. 

“Yes. We’re going there. Patch the signal through, Ensign Jones. What are you doing here, Stark.” Captain Rogers turned back to the view-screen and watched Gamma space go by at warp seven. 

“I’m here to give you this.” Stark strolled over to the Captain’s chair and handed Captain Rogers his phaser. “I fixed it for you. Your going to have to tell me how you managed to deep fry it like a french-fry sometime.”

“Sometime, maybe. Thank you.” Roger’s attention was drawn to where a grim-looking face blinked onto the view screen. Engine Jones had patched the distress signal through. The man on the view-screen looked weathered, with wrinkles and liver spots. He had a well-groomed mustache.  
“This is a pre-recorded message. I am Commander Jefferson, warden of Prison Colony 616, Jotunheim. At 06:25 galactic-standard-time the prisoners of this colony started a coup. They have marched into headquarters—my home—“

A loud band sounded from somewhere off camera. It was accompanied by the sound of shouting and heavy foot falls. 

“They’re here. I fear for the safety of all Gamma Space were these prisoners to find their way off this planet. If anyone hears this, —“

Another loud bang sounded off camera. The transmission ended abruptly and begun to play again in a loop. 

“Are you telling me an old man was watching the craziest criminal in all the galaxy, alone?” Lt. Stark asked. 

“The rest of the guards must have been killed. Or worse.” Captain Rogers rubbed at his face and sighed. “Shut it off, Ensign.” The bridge was silent. Rogers could feel everyone’s eyes on him, waiting for him to give direction. Captain Rogers had never wished that he wasn’t in charge before, but there was a first for everything. 

“Are we really going to land on a planet the size of a pea to fix this old guys mess?” Stark asked.

“We can’t just cruise by like we never heard the distress signal. I’m taking Lt. Romanoff and Ensign Jones with me. You have the bridge, Stark.”

“Awesome Possum.” 

Captain Rogers gave Stark a withering look until the Lieutenant sighed out a ‘yes, sir’. 

-O-  
A long time ago 

“I’m gonna be fine, Stevie. It’s gonna be just fine.” Bucky Barnes griped onto Steve Roger’s shoulders and squeezed. 

“I tried to get Pierce off the judging panel. I know you hate that guy, and they insisted, and—“ 

“Shh,” Bucky murmured. Steve hadn’t realized that he was halfway to an all out panic attack outside the Starfleet headquarters council room. Bucky leaned in and rested his forehead against Steve’s. The pair could feel the warm afternoon sun on the backs of their necks from the floor to ceiling windows behind them.  
“Shh,” Bucky ran his hand through Steve’s hair. “I’ll be back for dinner. I swear, I swear on my life.” Bucky smiled and it was devastating. Steve didn’t know what he would do with himself if he couldn’t have that smile every day for the rest of his life. He couldn’t imagine, he _couldn’t imagine_ —

“Pierce and Sitwell have it out for you, and they have sway over the others. You know this. We only have Fury on our side, and that’s only a maybe—“

Bucky kissed Steve, slow and gentle. 

Steve was crying. Bucky wiped at his tears and tried not to start crying himself. “So, I’ll be right back. Okay? The Borg are gone. We did out jobs. We might have mucked it up a little, but who doesn’t every once in a while? In two hours when this trial is over and they tell me I didn’t commit no war crime you and me will go home.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, Buck. Whatever you want.”

Bucky snorted. “Whatever I want, punk? You’ll change your tune when I pick dinner later. Macaroni and Cheese again for the fifth day in a row.”

Steve let out a watery chuckle. The pair kissed again, slow and sad like they already knew it would be the last time. They let one another go. Bucky took a minute to smooth out the wrinkles of his Starfleet uniform before he walked into the council’s boardroom. Watching Bucky leave had felt like watching him march to his death.

-O-  
Present 

Steve had met Lt. Natasha Romanoff ten years ago during the early years of the Borg wars. They had been trapped for five days on a dead starship, the Lemurian Star, floating in space. Steve had been fully expecting to die during that mission, but Lt. Romanoff (then, just Ensign Romanoff) had gotten the both of them out of the ship and to a Starfleet base using nothing but a broken tricorder, dental floss, and her own natural genius. So naturally, when it came time to pick someone to be his second in command choosing Lt. Romanoff was a no-brainer. It also helped that since that incident they had become fast friends. 

“I need you to promise that the next time you pull me away from dinner it will be for something a bit more exciting.” Lt. Romanoff shifted her weight as she sifted through a stack of flies sitting on top of the late Warden’s desk. The warden himself was a splattered mess on the floor behind his desk. It looked like the inmates had stomped him in. Around them the Warden’s mansion was in complete disarray. It had been ransacked, and anything even remotely of value had been taken. 

“I can’t find anything that shows why they’re would be a mass release of all the cell doors. Something must have happened off world to have caused this.” Lt. Romanoff said.

Captain Rogers nodded. Primary scans of the planet had shown Warden Jefferson seemed to have been telling the truth. Every cell door on Jotunheim had opened for no discernible reason, and the inmates had in fact stormed the Warden’s office. Secondary scans had shown the inmates were making their way to emergency escape pods, en-masses. What the inmates didn’t know was that Rogers and his crew had destroyed the escape pods with a few well-aimed torpedoes the moment they learned the escape pods existed. The constant, erratic snowstorms of Jotunheim had masked the explosions from a distance, leaving the convicts none the wiser.

Rogers sifted through his own pile of flies in a far corner of the room sitting on top of an ornate end table next to a big window; the only window in the room. It looked over block upon block of snow-covered prison cells. Each row was it’s own cellblock, every one dug into the ground like trenches to prevent convicts from escaping to the surface. Each block of was cells were self-sustained, and security was tight. Supposedly. Steve wasn’t so sure about that anymore. 

He looked over the endless row of cellblocks and sighed. In a sick way Steve was glad the council had put Bucky to death and not imprisoned him there. There was no hope on Jotunheim. Steve couldn’t bear the though of Bucky living without hope. 

Behind Captain Rogers Ensign Jones searched a computer. It was an old interface; its screen was still made of metal and glass. 

“Captain, this computer seems to control the escape shuttles. None have been activated yet. What should I do with it?” Jones asked.

“Isn’t odd that none of them have been activated?” Lt. Romanoff asked. “They all came though and killed the old man, and then nothing. Not one escapee is in here. Why wouldn’t they activate the escape shuttles?”

The Captain shrugged. “Maybe they didn’t realize. Either way, destroy that computer, Ensign. We don’t want anyone escaping with any pods we might have missed.”

Jones smiled something wide and dumb as he took out his phaser. “With pleasure, sir.” With the press of a button Jones incinerated the compute with his phaser. 

The computer wen up in a pile of disgusting smelling smoke that had Lt. Romanoff crinkling her nose.  
“Was the completely necessary?” she asked.

Jones shrugged and pocketed his phaser. 

“There’s nothing useful here.” Roger sighed and shoved his pile of files down not he floor. It made an even bigger mess of the Warden’s office. Papers and files scattering everywhere.

“I know being here doesn’t bring up the greatest memories but you don’t have to take it out on the paper.” Romanoff said. Rogers hadn’t noticed before, but the Lieutenant looked equally jittery as he felt. He had forgotten when Bucky died Natasha had lost a friend too.

Rogers took a moment to take a deep breath and collect himself. “You’re right.” Rogers tapped the shiny, brass communicate pinned to his uniform. “Captain Rogers to Lt. Stark.”

“Lt. Stark the magnificent speaking.”

Rogers tried very hard not to roll his eyes. “Stark, have you sent out a message to the Federation?”

“Oh, yeah. I told those bastards everything. It’s the first thing I did when you guys left. What, did you think I wouldn’t call for back up? You’re on the worst prison colony in all of space. Another near-by ship should be coming in about a half-an-hour.”

“Thanks, Lieutenant. I’ll keep you posted. Rogers out.”

The Captain looked around at his shipmates. “We sit and wait. No use walking out in a snowstorm for no reason. Our back up can deal with putting everyone back in their cells. I can’t imagine Starfleet wants me down here anyway. Let’s um. . .” Rogers cleared his throat. “Let’s split up and look around. Make sure no convicts are hiding out in here. Lt. Romanoff, take the west wing. I’ll take the east. Ensign, stay here and see if you find anything we might have missed that points to what went wrong here. Contact us if any of the convicts come back.”

A strong chorus of ‘yes, sirs’ filled the room and everyone took their places. 

-O-

Rogers wandered down the marble-walled hallways of the Warden’s mansion. It all seemed overly opulent, and a real slap in the face to all the inmates kept locked up all around him. If the records Roger’s had read through were any indication, the Warden had done terrible things to get money for such opulence. He had received bribes to make certain prisoners disappear, even maim and torture them. If you asked Steve, Warden Jefferson had this coming for a long time. 

Rogers stopped at the end of the hallway and looked through it’s one, large window. He could see miles and miles of entrenched cellblocks glowing a soft-electric blue under several feet of snow. Even through the snowstorm the glow of them was still visible. He once heard everything was constantly illuminated in the trenches, and that they used just enough heating to keep the inmates from dying. The cold prevented them from moving too much. It was an evil tactic, and Steve tried very hard not to think on it too much. If he had known such a place existed seven years ago he would have fought the Federation on it. Probably raised awareness about it, campaigned for more humane treatment of prisoners. Now, however, he couldn’t muster up enough energy to do something more then sneer and feel guilty. He couldn’t find the point in fighting anymore.

Roger’s eyes glazed over in through, and when he focused them again he saw something come into view through the blizzard. A man. Wearing the standard blue jumpsuit of a Jotunheim prisoner. Rogers tapped his communicator. 

“Captain Rogers to Lt. Romanoff, we have a prisoner incoming from the east side. Position near the front door and standby.” Lt. Romanoff sent him a rather unprofessional grunt of confirmation and the connection ended. 

The incoming inmate didn’t appear to be stopping. They had a large, heavyset build. _Nice thighs_. Long brunette hair. And a metal arm? Something was glinting in their left sleeve, and it was shaped like a hand.

-O-

 

A long time ago

“Whose that?” Steve asked. He was walking along side Professor Erskine down hallway upon hallway of Starfleet’s test laboratories. They had been talking about Steve’s up coming procedure. If it would hurt. If Steve would be a different person entirely because of it. 

Erskine had been unbelievably patient with all of Steve’s question. He answered each one so kindly. Steve couldn’t help but wonder if his own father would have treated him with such patience if he had been alive to have the chance. 

“Who?” Erskine asked. “Him?” The Professor pointed through the window of a laboratory on their right. An old man with a hunched back was freighting over a computer. “That’s Doctor Zola.”

“No, I mean the other guy.” Steve pointed a slim, bony finger at the only other person in the room. He looked to be around Steve’s age, in his early twenties. Even from outside of the room Steve could see the man had striking stormy blue eyes. He had a strong chin, and disheveled chestnut hair. 

“Oh. I don’t know. One of Zola’s test subjects it seems. Let’s keep a move on Steven. We have tests to conduct! Let us see if we can cure you of all your aliments once and for all.” Erskine smiled and ushered Steve away from Zola’s lab.

 

-O-

Present

In the east wing of the Warden’s mansion Lieutenant Romanoff was beating the ever-loving shit out of one Lieutenant Commander Brock Rumlow. She had been beating his dumb head into the wall when Captain Rogers warned her about another incoming inmate. 

“Ah!” Rumlow had breathed through his bloody mouth. “The Captain is here too! Where is he? I’d **love** to say hi. “

“Tell me what you’re doing here.” Romanoff slammed Rumlow’s head into the wall again, this time he went straight through the drywall. Romanoff was amazed that Rumlow was still conscious. 

“None of your business, beautiful. It’s above your pay grade.”

“Oh, you better say something Rumlow. Unless you wanna end up like the inmates here. Locked away under ten feet of ice.” Natasha knew, objectively, that she should tell Steve about Rumlow. But he was already fragile and knowing the bastard was in the same building as him would only make him break. 

Rumlow only laughed. He kicked backward at Romanoff’s knees. It knocked her back long enough for him to straighten himself out and get himself back in the fight. 

“Oh, **Natasha**. You don’t know shit.”

-O-  
“What the hell.” Rogers murmured to himself. He tapped his communicator again. “Natasha? Natasha come in. Suspect has a metal arm. . .Lieutenant?”

The man running through the blizzard was only a few yards away now. He was coming in fast. Faster than any other humanoid creature Rogers had ever seen. The man reminded him of himself. Rogers tapped at his communicator again. His body was tensed for a fight.

“Lieutenant, we have incoming.”

Rogers watched in horror as the man kept coming, and coming until he crashed through the window. The sound of shattering glass deafened Steve. Before he knew it he was knocked to the ground by at least a couple hundred pounds of criminal.

Both men groaned. The man with the metal hand pushed himself up using the Captain’s chest. 

Steve breathed through the pain of glass digging into the palms on his hands as he tried to sit up. Despite the pain, he gripped onto the convict and pulled him down to the ground, flipping himself on top of the man and holding him down. The inmate struggled against him, his hair flailing widely. 

“Sir, I’m going to need you to stay still,” Rogers panted.

The convict stilled for a moment; he rested his head on the glass-covered floor and his hair fell away from his face.

Steve felt the bottom of his stomach drop out. He wasn’t alive. This was a dream. He felt the room spin around him. His heart had stopped. It must have stopped. He must be dead.

“Bucky?”

Lieutenant Commander James “Bucky” Barnes of the USS Armin-Zola looked up at Captain Rogers, shocked.

“Of course it would be you.” He snarled. 

Steve blinked and Bucky was head-butting him. Steve was left dazed. Bucky wiggled his way out from under Steve and took off running. On pure instinct alone, Steve went chasing after him. Bucky was faster than he used to be. Steve nearly had trouble catching up to him, but he managed. He tackled Bucky to the ground; catching a mouthful of greasy auburn hair in the process.

“Bucky. Buck, I though you were dead!” Steve panted.

“What the hell do you know? Traitor. Son of a bitch. Goddamn bastard.” The former Lt. Commander punctuated each word with well-placed blows from his elbows and heavy-booted feet. Steve let go of Bucky to clutch at his probably broken ribs. Bucky took off running again, and Steve chased after him. His communicator beeped and Romanoff’s voice came through. 

“Sorry Rogers, there was a problem. It’s solved now. Back-up from the Federation has arrived, are we ready to beam up?”

“One second!” Steve dived for Bucky and held on tight. He grit his teeth and breathed through the pain in his hands and ribs. Bucky was wiggling and cussing and calling Steve a bastard and a traitor, and a number of things Steve never thought Bucky would call him. He held onto Bucky with his thighs long enough to get at his communicator.  
“Transport room four to beam up!” Steve said in a rushed, breathy jumble. 

It was still for a second, and then the world dissolved around them in a wash of white. 

-O-  
A long time ago

Steve didn’t know why it bothered him so much. He knew he, himself, was technically a lab rat. He was allowing a scientist to conduct experiments on him both for the sake of science and for his own health. But there was something about the way the boy looked sitting on the table. He had looked dejected. Like he didn’t actually want to be there. 

It was bothering him, and Steve never knew when to leave well enough alone. 

It was early in the morning. Test subjects like himself were supposed to report to the laboratories at 07:00 for primary scans and blood work before the day started. He would run late for his own tests, but he knew Dr. Erskine would understand. 

Steve waited down the hall from Dr. Zola’s lab. It was still early. The hallway was empty. Steve’s uniform didn’t have any pockets, so he wasn’t exactly sure where to put his hands. He shifted around, and tried not look like a child drowning in a grown-man’s uniform. There had been nothing in his size, and he had refused to wear anything children’s size. So naturally, he was drowning in his yellow accented jumpsuit. He was feeling beyond self-conscious about himself, when finally, when a quarter to seven came around, the boy from yesterday walked down the hall way. 

It was then Steve realized his mistake. How was he supposed to start talking to him? Just go up to him, hold out his hand and say “Hi. My name is Steve Rogers. You look like you’re being held by Starfleet against your will. Do you need any help?”

Of course he couldn’t say that. The boy would think he was a weirdo or something. Instead Steve stood still, his arms crossed against his sagging uniform. He watched the boy walk down the hall, and didn’t take his eyes off him for a moment. Steve hadn’t realized how freaky it was to stand still in the middle of an empty hallway and stare at someone. 

The boy came closer and closer until he close enough that he could talk without yelling. He said, “What the hell are you looking at?” And scared Steve right out of his skin. 

“I’m sorry!” Steve shrieked. “I’m sorry! I just wanted to meet you. I was staring at you! Yesterday through the window. In the lab. I, um. . .” Every word out of Steve mouth just made it worse, but he couldn’t stop himself. “I saw your face, and your eyes, and you looked sad, and I thought I would wait here for you to show up. At the lab. Here. I’m a test subject, too!” Steve wanted to bury himself deep into the ground. He wondered if he could suffocate himself in his gigantic jumpsuit. He hoped he could. He was two seconds away from trying it out. 

“Are you with Erskine?” The boy asked. 

“Yep.” Steve squeaked. He was fisting his jumpsuit with both hands.

“My name is James. But you can call me Bucky.” Bucky held out his hand for a handshake. Steve gladly took it. 

“My name is Steve. Steve Rogers.”

“Nice to meet you Steve Rogers. Next time you might just want to lead with an introduction.” Bucky smirked. He sauntered around Steve and walked into Zola’s lab, but not without turned back around to wink at him. 

-O-  
Present 

“Let go of me!” Bucky took full advantage of the disorientation the transporter beam caused to climb out from under Steve and kicked him in the jaw.

“Ow! Shit!” Steve held his face and groaned as he stood up. “Thompson, don’t just stand there! Get security!

Ensign Josh Thompson, who was managing the transporter control room, seemed to be shocked by the sight of Bucky. He sprung to action at Steve’s urging. Rick Jones, who had appeared on the transporter pad behind them, threw himself on top of Bucky. Steve wasn’t surprised when Bucky threw Jones and the Ensign went flying against the transporter controls.

Bucky turned back to Steve and growled, “You’re a piece of shit. Beam me back to the surface.”

“Absolutely not.” Steve said. He could see Romanoff of to his left looked shocked for a minute, but she hid it well. She seemed to accept that Bucky was alive and a danger to the rest of the crew almost instantly. 

“Don’t fucking start with me! You signed me off to Zola! You sold me for this ship!” Bucky screamed. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Do you think I’d really do that?”

“I don’t know, Steve. Would you?” Bucky was spitting mad and feral. 

“Captain!” Lt. Clint Barton, head of security, stood at the door. 

“Wait. Don’t move.” Steve held out his hand to keep Barton from getting any closer.

“What? Gonna round me up and send me back to Zola so I can KEEP BEING A LAB RAT?”

“I need to you calm down. I don’t understand,” Steve tried desperately to keep himself steady. He knew he was on the verge of tears, or worse a, a panic-induced break down. He didn’t know much longer he could keep himself together. “I would never—“

“But you did.” Bucky seemed to deflate. His anger went out of him all at once. “You did.” He said, absolutely miserable.

“I wouldn’t. Can we just talk?”

Bucky looked over Steve. “No.” Bucky stalked across the room, posed like he was ready to rip Steve to shreds with his bare hands. Lt. Romanoff fired off her phaser. It must have been set to stun because Bucky let out a horrible shriek and crumpled down onto the floor. Lt. Barton rushed in and quickly handcuffed him. 

“I’ll put him in a cell.” Barton said. 

“No, wait. No. Put him in my room.” Steve said. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Steve.” Natasha was looking at Steve like she knew everything he was thinking, how broken up he was, and how he was ten seconds away from hyperventilating. 

“I’m not putting him in a cell like he’s a criminal. Put him in my room, Barton.”

Despite Lt. Baron’s obvious hesitation he did what the Captain asked. 

-O-  
A long time ago

“Tell me, again, why you’re out here for a second time?” James Barnes looked down a scrawny little Steve Rogers and tried to keep the shit-eating grin off his face. They were in the hallway again. It was early in the morning, a half and hour before morning scans. Bucky had shown up a whole thirty minutes early to his own scans, Steve hoped he had been looking to see him again. 

“I wanted to know if you would be willing to hang out. During break. I mean lunch. If you wanted to get lunch.” Steve said. “Depends. Is it a date?”

Bucky did smile after that. It was viscous and dazzling, and sent Steve reeling. 

“Yeah. It is.” Steve cocked his chin out and glared at Bucky in outright challenge. 

“Good.” Bucky preened with satisfaction. 

-O-  
Present 

Barton had shoved Bucky into Steve’s room and manually locked the door behind him. Steve didn’t waste time rushing back to his room. He sent a quick message to Stark letting him know he still had the bridge and to set a course for Starfleet Headquarters. Natasha had been right on his heels, not saying anything but clearly intent on not leaving him alone. 

When Steve and Natasha got back to his room Barton manually locked the door behind them. Steve, Natasha, and Bucky were all locked in Steve’s room unless Barton let them out of it. 

Steve locked eyes with Bucky. He was still in his rumpled, wet, snow-covered Jotunheim jumpsuit. He was standing in a dark corner of the room and looked like he was more then coiled for a fight. 

“JARVIS? Can I have a surveillance black out for the next hour or so in this room?” Steve said to the ship AI. JARVIS was what made the USS America special. He was truly a one of a kind AI, completely of Stark’s creation. 

“Of course, Captain.” JARVIS responded. 

“We’re alone now.” Steve said. He made baby steps toward Bucky, wanting nothing more than to hug him and never let him go, but seeing as how Bucky was keyed up for a fight Steve didn’t think that was going to happen. 

“I thought you were dead.”

Natasha walked over to a table that sat in the middle of the room, and was between Steve and Bucky. She pulled the fruit bowl on the table closer to herself and made a show out of picking a few grapes out and eating them. Steve took that as the warning it was. Natasha was putting herself between the two of them to stop a fight from breaking out. 

Surprisingly, Natasha acting as a barrier between the two Starfleet officers seemed to make Bucky calm down a bit. 

“They told me you sold me.” Bucky’s voice was rough like gravel and dark pitch like tar. “They showed me the contract. You signed it. With your dumbass looking signature.” 

“Whose they?” Steve asked. He took another hesitant step toward Bucky and was stopped by a sidelong glance from Natasha. 

“Zola. And Pierce. I didn’t believe them at first. So they showed me.”

“Steve would never do that, James.” Natasha said. Steve had been two seconds away from saying the same thing, but hearing it from Natasha actually made Bucky stop and think. His forehead furrowed, his eyebrows crinkled downward. Bucky’s confusion over the matter broke Steve’s heart. 

“They showed me the contract.” Bucky repeated. “I know what Steve’s signature looks like.” 

Steve took a few more steps forward. “But I would never—“ 

Bucky honest to goodness growled. Natasha was full on glaring at Steve to get him to stop moving. Steve remembered there had been a time when Bucky had trusted him with everything. What was worse, he wondered. A life without Bucky or life with Bucky hating him? He tried to remember to breath.

“Let’s all calm down. James, sit.” Natasha pointed to an armchair close to Bucky. He heisted for a minute, but Natasha in all her wisdom had never steered anyone wrong, and Bucky knew it. So he sat down in the chair. Steve sat down next to Natasha. “We need to start at the beginning.” Natasha said. “James, if you ever want to make it out of this room you will tell us everything that happened starting the morning you were supposed to be executed.”

Bucky flinched. He took a long moment for himself, visibly putting himself together. “Just you. Not Steve.”

“Bucky, wait—“

“Steve, could you leave the room?” Natasha asked.

Steve did not want to leave the room but he wasn’t left with much of a choice. 

-O-  
A long time ago

James Barnes had been sentenced to death for committing treason against the Federation during wartime. He had promised Steve that he would be home for dinner. That had been dumb of him. 

He didn’t get to see Steve, or any of his friends for a month while they detained him in a holding cell in the lowest subbasement in Federation Headquarters. It had been worst month of Bucky’s life. 

When he was finally moved, it was on a ship going to Jotunheim. Even then, Bucky didn’t fear for his life, but he feared for Steve’s. Steve didn’t know how to deal with loss in constructive ways. Steve was pig-headed when it came to grief. He was liable to do something incredible dumb, like sign up for suicide missions or jump out of shuttle crafts in the middle of entering a planet’s atmosphere, because he didn’t know how to just sit down and cry it out like a normal person. Bucky remembered what happened when Steve’s mom died. For a year it had been nothing but Steve trying-not-trying to get himself killed. Bucky couldn’t let that happen to his Stevie. 

He didn’t feel anything when they put him in the chair he was about to die in. He didn’t feel anything when he watched Dr. Zola fill up a syringe with green liquid. He didn’t feel anything when they strapped him down in the chair. He practically tingled with how numb he was. Not even Zola’s incessant talking got to him. 

But then he caught eyes of Steve on the other side of the glass room he was in and felt everything. He felt everything when Steve started crying and screaming. Even inside the room Bucky could hear Steve screaming. He felt everything when the needle went into him and last thing he saw before he couldn’t see anything through the pain was Steve rushing to bash in the glass and Natasha and Sam physically fighting to hold him back before he got court martialed himself. 

And then he woke up. He hadn’t expected to wake up. 

He woke up on an operating table. He knew because he had woken up on an operating table more times then he could count. He was familiar with the feeling of cold, hard metal underneath him. Just like any other time he woke up on an operating table, Dr. Zola was hovering above him with bloody surgical tools. As if on cue pain bloomed up inside him. 

“We did not get a chance to finish our work, Lt. Barnes. We will make a Borg out of you yet!” Zola said. He was smug. His hands glistened with blood. “It is okay. The procedure has already started. Let’s see if you are ready to comply now.”

Zola went back to work and Bucky’s world was pain.

 

 

They told him he wasn’t in hell. And that he was alive. And that Steve knew where he was and signed off on it. He didn’t believe that Steve would ever sign off on allowing him to be tortured. His Steve. His Stevie. Not in a million years. He could cry and beg and shit himself, but he would not let go of the memory of his Stevie. He could resist Zola’s attempts to make him part of his slow-growing collection of homegrown Borg as long as he held onto Steve. They showed him the papers proving Steve signed off on everything. And he went floating.

 

 

 

He looked down and saw how own stomach split open. Flesh and cartilage, and red meat flayed wide. His own pink-red intestines spilt out on his own lap. He could feel the blood. He could feel the blood. 

 

 

 

He could see the top of his scalp sawed off for his own head. He sees his own scalp on the surgical pan. He could feel the sterile laboratory air hit his brain. Was this what it felt like to die? He hoped so. 

 

 

 

They cut off each and every one of his fingers. They sewed them all back to see if they would heal. They did. But he could not get the image of his mangled hands out of his head. 

 

 

 

He let go. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He was ready to comply. He was part of the collective. He was ready to comply. Assimilation complete. 

The dumbest thing broke his programming. The door to his cell opened. He had been kept in Cell Block Z. The last cell. Nothing but an ice-cold room. Not even a bed. His cell door opened and the wind chill hit him and—

He had a name? It was Bucky? James. Bucky. His cell was open. So he ran. 

-O-  
Present 

Steve was welcomed back into the room. When he was back inside Bucky was sitting on a couch facing the window out to space. He was looking out the window with a blank expression. Behind him Natasha sat at the table, exactly where Steve had last seen her. It was clear she had been crying. 

“You and James need to talk.” Natasha said. She got up to leave. Bucky looked back at her with a clear look of betrayal. 

“I don’t want to hear it James. You should tell him what you told me.”  
Natasha left the room then, without looking at Steve. Steve didn’t know if he should sit somewhere or stay standing where he was. 

“Are you going to tell me what you told, Tasha?”

Bucky took his sweet time to respond. “No. I’m not.”

Steve stood around, wringing his hands a bit, before finally deciding that if he was going to stand around and feel terrible he might as well do it sitting down. He sat down at the table, facing Bucky’s back and the window. 

“Is there anything you will tell me?” Steve asked. He drew invisible lines across the table with the tips of his fingers. 

“Yes. I never thought you would betray me.”

“I didn’t.” Steve said. He couldn’t figure out why Natasha would just leave them in the room alone together. It was clear that Bucky wanted to be anywhere else but near him. 

Steve cleared his throat and tried not to scream. “If you don’t want to tell me something, I’ll tell you something instead. After you died I buried an empty casket in Brooklyn. I refused to get back on a star ship for at least a year. I couldn’t. The Federation wanted me too, but I just couldn’t.” Steve laughed to himself. It was hollow. 

“I, um. They wanted me back on a ship, eventually. They threatened to revoke my Captain rank, and when that didn’t work they threatened to go public with your execution, and I couldn’t let them ruin your memory like that. As far as the public knew you were killed in action.” Steve felt his throat close up, like he was seconds away from crying, but he pushed it down. He figured Bucky wouldn’t appreciate a crying fit.

“So they blackmailed me back onto a starship but had the nerve to demote me. By the time I made it back to Captain. . .I just didn’t care.” Steve sighed. “You don’t care about this.”

They sat in silence for a while. 

“What did you sign? Did you sign anything?” Bucky asked. 

Steve took a minute to remember. He had signed a lot of things during his time at Starfleet, but the last thing he signed. . .  
“It was a document saying I wouldn’t talk about what happened during the war or your court-martialing. It was a gag order. Pierce said—“

“Pierce?” Bucky asked. 

“Yeah. He said if I didn’t sign I would have be court-martialed again. I had refused to but Sam got me to sign it. He said it wasn’t worth dying over.”

“Did you read it?”

Steve took a moment to think about it. It had been so long ago. Had he read it?

“Did you read it?” Bucky repeated. 

“No. I couldn’t. Pierce wouldn’t let me. He kept rushing me, and then Sam had been trying to get me out of the room as fast a possible. I wasn’t—I didn’t really have it together back then, Buck. I didn’t take your death very well.” Steve laughed again. Like he pain was something funny. 

“You didn’t read it?”

“No. It was at least a hundred pages, and like I said I hadn’t—“

“Steve.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re an idiot.” 

All the air went out of Steve and he slumped deep into his char. “Yeah. I probably am.” 

-O-  
A long time ago

Their date had been a disaster. Steve didn’t think it was possible for him to get any more awkward, but apparently when faced with Bucky’s searing blue eyes it was more then possible. By the end of it Bucky had sat Steve down on the way back to the lab and had said

“Listen, you’re pretty swell,” Swell like it was the 20thth century or something “but I don’t think this is gonna work out.” 

“Yeah. I don’t think so either.” Steve sighed. All the tension and nervousness left his body. “To be honest, it was kind of gross how you chewed with your mouth open.”

Bucky looked absolutely appalled, “I don’t! I was taught better then that.”

Steve snorted “By who? Zola?”

 

-O-  
Present

Natasha didn’t come back to the room, and Steve didn’t have the energy to leave and face his crew. He knew that made him a terrible Captain, but he’d been a terrible Captain for some time now. The only thing that kept him from falling apart entirely was that Lt. Romanoff and Lt. Stark had no trouble picking up his slack. Steve knew he had no business captaining a starship. 

Him and Bucky had sat across the room from one another, in complete silence until eventually, Bucky stood up. He took a moment to stare out the window some more. Gamma space flying by at warp 10 in front of his face. And then Bucky walked over toward Steve. 

Steve tensed up. Bucky walked like he was going to kill him, and Steve knew he didn’t have enough energy in himself to stop him. 

“Steve.” Bucky said. He sat down and put both his clenched fists in clear view on the table. 

“Yeah?”

“You. Are an idiot.” Bucky growled out his words but something seemed to unfurl inside and shift behind his eyes.

“Yeah. You told me that.”

“You signed me of to Zola.”

Steve paled. “I didn’t. . .”

“It broke me.” Bucky glared down at the table. “It was the last straw. And it broke me.” 

Steve waited for Bucky to elaborate, but he didn’t. They continued to sit in painful, awkward silence. With Bucky glaring down at the table and Steve looking as if her were just a few seconds away from throwing up. 

“Buck. Please. Just tell me what happened.”

“Zola. He wanted his own Borg collective. And he had it.”

“Oh. Oh.” Steve really was on the edge of vomiting after that. “Oh, God.”

Bucky chuckled and it was disturbing. “God wasn’t there. I can promise you that.”

“Did he? Did it?” Steve was terrified of the answer.

“Yes.” Bucky said. He looked like admitting it was a lot for him. He was fraying at the edges, sliding down in his seat. “Yes.”

“How did you come back?” Steve asked. 

Breaking his programing had been—and his body had felt like it had short circuited, pain and clarity, and then—he shook his head. “I just did.”

“I’m proud of you.” Steve reached out to touch his friend, and then through better of it. “I remember when—when Zola—and it took you so long to. . .”

There had been one summer when Steve hadn’t been able to find Bucky. No one had seen, or heard from him, and he hadn’t been assigned on a starship. Since he had technically been born in a lab, no one seemed to care too much about where Bucky could be. Steve had searched and searched and when he found him Bucky had been hooked up to a million machines. Had jet-black armor melded to his skin. He looked so pale, like not only had he not seen the sun but like something had drained all the blood from his body. Zola had wanted Borg and he had made Bucky a Borg. 

Of course when Steve brought Bucky out into the daylight, and hauled him all the way to Fury’s office, and demanded to know what type of operation Zola had been running it had all been shut down. Zola had been put on trail. Zola had been put to death. State executions didn’t automatically mean death. Apparently. 

“He didn’t try to put you in the armor again?” Steve asked. 

“No. After what happened. He thought that having a collective that could fit in would be advantages. He bragged about it. A collective that looked just like humans.”

“So you know there are more?”

Bucky turned green for a minute. “Yes. I’ve seen them. Remember Henry? He wanted to be an engineer, like you. He was in Zola’s lab. He’s part of the collective. 

Steve didn’t know what to say. He felt like the breath had been kicked out of him. 

“What are you going to do about this, Steve?” Bucky asked. He shifted around in his seat and settled his eyes above Steve’s shoulder.

“I don’t know.” 

Bucky took one look at Steve’s lost and scared expression and made a face that somehow expressed both exasperation and pity. 

“Do you wanna here what I think what I think we should do?”

“Of course.” 

Bucky honest to god rolled his eyes. Which was very unsettling because they still looked dead and didn’t move much from the spot above Steve’s shoulder. “You need to take your team down to headquarters and tell them you have me on your ship. You need to put me in a containment cell and tell them you put me there—“

“I’m not gonna do that.”

“Shut up and listen to me, you goddamn jack ass. You need to tell them you captured me off Jotunheim and haven’t had a chance to debrief because it’s sent the whole ship into a tizzy.”

“But it hasn’t, no one else knows your here.”

Bucky gave Steve a look that was effective in conveying how stupid Bucky really thought Steve was. “If you think every single person on this ship doesn’t know I’m here and isn’t talking about it you’ve official reached a new level of stupidity, Rogers.”

“No more stupid then you.” It had been instinct. Steve panicked for a minute over letting the insult just slip out, but Bucky was looking at him with something close to fondness so he must not have minded it all that much. 

“Okay. I’ll follow you’re lead.”

“Damn right you will. I think I earned that. Tell Natasha. She’ll know what to do after that.”

“Aren’t you going to come along?”

“I’m going to be in a containment cell, Steve.”

“Yeah. Right. That’s right.” Steve got up, and tried to ignore the stupidly amused look Bucky was shooting him. 

“Tell Natasha I’ll stay here.” 

“Yeah. Of course.” Steve look one last look at Bucky before leaving the room. Barton opened the door for him and he was immediately bombarded by a very serious looking Natasha. 

“Did he tell you everything?”

“No. But he gave me enough of an idea. That gag order Pierce made me sign, it must have hidden some sort of clause about Bucky’s body being used for research after his death or something like that. It was the only thing I’ve signed recently and I hadn’t read it.”

“You realize that’s what did him in? More than anything else?” Natasha’ eyes were boring into Steve’s soul. He didn’t think it was possible to feel even more terrible, but there he was. 

“Yes. I realize.”

“God. Don’t sign things without reading them from now on. We could have saved us all years of trouble.”

“Bucky wanted me to tell you he would stay in the room.”

“Like hell he’s actually going to stay in the room.”

“He said we should put him in a containment cell and go to Federation Headquarters and tell them what happened.”

“Does he want us to turn him in?!” Natasha was most certainly not on board with that plan.

“No. I don’t think he wants that.” 

“He must want us to investigate. We’re not handing him over.”

“I wouldn’t.” Steve crossed his arms. He was done making dumb mistakes.

-O-  
A long time ago

Steve did not want be a ship captain anymore. He did not want to be in charge of a crew. He wanted to be at Bucky’s grave. It had been two years but it hadn’t felt like it. Bucky was dead. He wasn’t coming back. It was a revelation that kept hitting him in waves. He would fall asleep remembering and wake up remembering. Steve’s life was composed of little bits of forgetting and remembering. 

He was not fit to lead anyone. Pierce had given him no choice. It was in the original contract he signed with Erskine; he had to serve when ordered. This time it was a one-year mission into the Epsilon quadrant. Completely unexplored territory. Steve and his crew were supposed to be ambassadors of Starfleet. Steve didn’t care. To add insult on insult Pierce assigned Steve his new second; Brock Rumlow. 

.

.

.

Brock Rumlow was a force. He moved like he owned the ground under him and the air around him. Steve had been doomed since the moment he saw him, because Steve had a type. Dark haired, strong, competent, Rumlow was all of those. He was brutal in his honestly and ran a tight bridge when Steve couldn’t. 

Steve tried to keep his feelings to himself (because really, Bucky was barely in the ground. _What was wrong with him?_ ), but he must have been obvious. Rumlow corned him one week into their mission. He stopped Steve in the hallway outside of the outside of holodeck one, and crowded around him, pushing him into the wall. 

“I’ve seen the way you look at me, Rogers. You wanna do something about it?”

Steve hadn’t had an opportunity to answer. Rumlow had already found another use for his mouth.

.

.

.

The thing about it was, Rumlow turned out be a terrible person. His brutality didn’t stop at honestly, and the harshness he showed on the bridge bleed into everything else he did. He was nothing like Bucky. Steve knew Rumlow was nothing like Bucky, no one was like Bucky, but if he could just pretend for a moment. . .

Steve ignored the complaints of his crewmembers when it came to him about Rumlow. They were knee deep in uncharted territory. It was imperative everyone got along.

 

-O-  
Present

Steve took the bridge back from Stark. Bucky hadn’t wanted Steve to stick around. Natasha was keeping him company, instead. Steve was still reeling from the shock of it all, the small twang of jealousy rolling around his stomach didn’t feel like much in comparison. 

His crew was looking at him through the corners of his eyes. He could feel it. The Captain hadn’t thought it would be necessary to address his crew, but he could feel the awkward tension on the bridge and knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut. 

“Ensign Jones, I want to speak with the rest to he crew. If you could please?”

“Yes, of course, Captain.” Jones jumped to complete Roger’s orders. 

The Captain took a deep breathe before speaking. “Hello. This is Captain Rogers. As you all may have heard by now, came back from Jotunheim with an extra person. I’m certain you’ve all heard by now that that person is James Barnes.”

Steve could feel the contents of his stomach, his breakfast and his bile, churn wildly with each word he spoke. It was the whole mess with Rumlow all over again. He was nothing but an embarrassment with his dirty laundry out in the open. 

“Previously believed to be dead, it appears the Lt. Barnes has been served out a sentence of Jotunheim. Myself, along with all of my Lieutenants, had no knowledge of this. We are currently on our way to Federation Headquarters to sort out this miscommunication. When we reach earth, all of you will have shore leave. I don’t know how long it will take to find out exactly what went wrong, but when I do, I will let you all know. Rogers out.”

The bridge went strongly silent. Ensign Jones was the one who broke it first. 

“So it’s all true, sir? About you and Lt. Barnes?”

Steve wondered if he would cause too much of a scandal floating himself out of the nearest air lock. Did he really care about leaving even more scandal behind him? 

“Yes. It’s all true.” Steve said through gritted teeth. 

“Wow! That’s really something, Captain. Quite the love story! I bet you’re glad he’s not really dead.”

Ensign Teddy Smith, who was manning his station on the platform behind Steve, let out an honest to god groan. 

Steve willed himself to keep his mouth shut. He willed himself. And willed himself. And—“What do you mean, quite the love story?” 

“Well, I mean, the two of you were like, _together_. And you were the Captain of the original USS America, and Lt. Barnes was your second in command. Before Starfleet found out? And then the two of you were all, star crossed loves and stuff when he got transferred to the USS Armin-Zola.”

Screw leaving a scandal behind. Steve would gladly throw his body to the mercy of space. “News travels around here quickly, doesn’t it,” Steve said without a hint of humor. Behind him poor Teddy rested his head against his control panel. 

“I mean how could it not! It’s so romantic. He committed treason to save your life, and everything!” Jones said.

“Rick, stop.” Teddy groaned. “Please. Stop talking.”

“Why?” Jones’ looked confused. Steve began to doubt Jones would ever hit any rank above Ensign. 

“You’re making a fool of yourself.” Kate Bishop, a security officer, rolled her eyes. 

“Alright. That’s enough guys. Lets leave it all alone.” Steve felt a small bit of comfort knowing he wasn’t the only one feeling secondhand embarrassment. 

-O-

When it came time for Lt. Romanoff to relieve the Captain of his duties long enough for him to sleep and eat, she gave him a knowing glare that said “don’t fuck anything up while I’m busy”. Bucky was still sitting in Steve’s room when he returned. 

“Did Natasha get you to eat?” Steve asked. He didn’t get an answer. He didn’t know why he had been expecting one. 

“I need to eat something.” Steve said. He stood in front of his replicator thinking of anything that even remotely sounded good. He ended up on coffee and a grilled cheese. 

“Do you want anything?” Steve asked. He sat down at the table and ate. Despite his anxiety he scarfed down the sandwich in record time. He hadn’t eaten in what possibly have been 48 hours. When he was finished he took the liberty of moving himself onto the couch alongside Bucky. 

He didn’t move away from Steve, but he did tense up. 

Steve didn’t know what to say and was disappointed in himself when “Are you ready to go in a containment cell” was the only thing that came out of his mouth. 

Bucky sneered. “Would you be?”

“No.” Steve said. “I guess not.”

Steve sipped at his coffee and tried not to stare at Bucky. He failed. 

“Do you have something to say to me, Steve?” Bucky asked. His voice was so low and quiet. Steve didn’t remember his voice ever sounding like that before. 

“Um. . .” Steve sputtered. He put his coffee down on the coffee table in front of him. “I just. . .I missed you, Buck. More then anything.”

Steve couldn’t tell but he swore Bucky smiled a bit. Steve dared to scoot himself a bit closer to Bucky and Bucky hesitantly closed the distance between them until they sat side by side, shoulder and thighs touching. 

-O-  
A long time ago

“This was the best idea I’ve had all year.”

They were in New York, standing in city hall with wide smiles. 

“I bet,” Steve snorted. “And you say I have all the dumb ideas. This is a dumb idea. The dumbest.”

“This was a wonderful idea. You finally get to be my wife.”

“Shut up. Scream it from the rooftops why don’t you.”

“Bucky smirked. “Do you want me too? I’ll do it.”

“You boys are now married. You’ll get your certificate in the mail in two to three days. Congratulations.” The clerk handed them their recipes. Both Steve and Bucky thanked the clerk before they left.

“Where do you wanna go now, Stevie?”

“Some where warm,” Steve sighed.

“Are we talking’ Georgia warm or Bahamas warm?”

“I was thinking Asgard warm, actually.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me. All the way to Asgard for out honeymoon?”

“I’m dragging you the Asgard cause we eloped. If we’re gonna elope we might as well do it properly. Go to another planet, get tans, not tell our friends where we are for a few weeks.”

Bucky wasn’t about to deny Steve anything. He just took his hand and pulled him down the street. If they were going to Asgard they were going to need to find passage on a ship.

 

-O-

Present

“Rogers. Rogers. We’re twelve hours out from headquarters. We need to talk about our plan.” Steve breathed deeply and was instantly confronted by the dark, musky smell he associated with Bucky. He snuggled deeper into his pillow and sighed. If he could just get another minute to enjoy the vivid sensory flashback of waking up with his face in Bucky’s hair. . .

“Rogers!”

“I’m up.” Steve lifted his face and wiped the drool running down his chin in an effort to look a bit more dignified. He saw Natasha sitting on the coffee table in front of him, amused and unimpressed. He looked off to his side, he hadn’t remembered falling asleep on the couch, and then he saw Bucky looking just as sleep rumpled as himself. Steve couldn’t help it when he smiled something wide and stupid. 

“Buck,” Steve sighed. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” Bucky grumbled. He stretched and his bones audibly cracked. 

“Are the two of you finished?” Natasha asked. 

“We’re ready.” Steve said. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and mindlessly smoothed down Bucky’s drool-soaked hair. “We’re ready. Let’s debrief.”

Bucky swat Steve’s hand away but Steve went right back at it, this time scratching softly at Bucky’s scalp. Bucky let out a sleepy smile and curled up to Steve’s side. Like he forgot just a few hours ago he had wanted to rip Steve’s head off. 

“I see you both came to some sort of agreement.” Natasha said. 

“Yeah. That Steve’s an idiot.” Bucky said. 

“I think we can all agree on that. Now. What’s the plan?” Natasha asked. 

“Fuck should I know. Ask Mr. Tactician over here.” Bucky said. 

Steve was torn between the urge to roll his eyes or cry. 

“What’s the plan, Steven?” Natasha asked. She rolled her jaw around and to Steve’s great surprise she was smacking bright pink gum. For a moment he felt like he was back in the war room during the Borg Wars, battle plans running through his head while Bucky poked fun at him and Natasha smacked her gum. 

“Obviously, we’re not actually taking Bucky to headquarters.”

“Obviously.” Natasha and Bucky said in unison. 

Steve rolled his eyes. “So where going to send in you and Stark to talk to the council. If I show up we won’t have a chance of finding out the truth, or be taken seriously. It’s a risk but it’s better then me walking in there.”

“Why wouldn’t they take you seriously?” Bucky asked. Both Natasha and Steve went awkwardly silent before Steve was brave enough to speak. 

“I really didn’t take your death well, Buck. My reputation is sort of. . .” Steve struggled to find the appropriate word.

“In the toilet.” Natasha said. 

“Yeah.” Steve agreed. 

Bucky just huffed. 

“What are you going to do while Stark and I are in headquarters? What are we telling Stark?”

“The truth. We tell him everything that happened in Jotunheim, and anything Bucky is willing to let us tell them about his time there. While you and Stark deal with the council Bucky and I will go back to Jotunheim.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Natasha asked. 

“We need to find evidence. We need to find out who is on our side. There must be data lying around Jotunheim somewhere that can tell us more about what we need to know.”

“What are you going to do with the proof? Once we get it.” Bucky asked. 

“We’ll show it to the council. We’ll show it to every member of Starfleet if we have too.” Steve said. “If something isn’t right everyone has the right to know about it.”

Neither Natasha or Bucky disagreed with Steve, so he assumed they were on board with the plan. 

“I still need to be put in a containment cell.” Bucky said. “They’ll ask to see the starship logs as proof. You also don’t want one of your officers spilling the beans while they’re on shore leave.”  
“Fine. Just. . .fine. In a minute.” Steve said. 

“Some time today, Rogers,” Bucky huffed. 

“I’ll leave you boys to it then. Page me when you’re ready.” Natasha got up and left the room. Bucky and Steve stayed where they were, nestled into each other while Steve massaged Bucky’s head. 

Everything could wait just a moment longer. He had Bucky back in his life. Natasha and Tony would find out what was going on with the council, and himself and Bucky would find proof to back up their argument. Everything would be all right. But for now Steve just wanted to keep running his fingers through Bucky’s hair.


End file.
